Irish Eyes
by DianeB
Summary: An episode addition to "Looking for Par'mach in all the Wrong Places." After very nearly giving in to her hormones and kissing Miles O'Brien, a very-pregnant Kira Nerys finds refuge and understanding on Bajor.


Author's Note: Written at the end of the episode "Looking for Par'mach in all the Wrong Places" (the episode where a very-pregnant Kira comes way too close to kissing Miles O'Brien). Kira Nerys finds refuge and understanding on Bajor. Rated PG.

Disclaimer: Paramount, er, CBS owns it all. Always has, always will. I accept this.

Irish Eyes  
by DianeB**

* * *

**

Kira Nerys was greatly relieved that she had been able to let Miles O'Brien off the hook, but at the same time she had absolutely no intention of visiting Shakaar in the capital. She was going to her friend's secluded house in the Musilla Province as originally planned. She had to have time to herself and hoped Keiko would forgive her. Of course, (thank the Prophets!) Keiko would only see that Kira had simply deceived her husband about where she was headed, not that she and Miles had come within a hair's breadth of engaging in a full blown liplock that would surely have ended with them both in the big antique bed at the house by the river. Or perhaps somewhere on, as Miles liked to call it, the Emerald Isle…

"_Major Kira? Major, sir_?" The panel was beeping and Ensign Bell's concerned voice flooded the little runabout – and had been for some short while.

Kira snapped to. "Ensign, I'm sorry. I was daydreaming." Her palms were sticky. She placed them on her belly, letting the absorbent material wick away some of the moisture.

"_Ah_," the ensign replied knowledgeably, "_a baby'll do that to you. You're cleared for launch_." She paused, waiting for Kira to acknowledge.

"Thanks. I'm outta here." Before the ensign could say anything more, Kira broke off communications and punched the runabout on its course to the Province. She was half expecting O'Brien, once he realized she had not entered a course correction, to hail her en route to explain herself, but the communications panel remained blessedly silent and her trip was uneventful. For this she was eternally grateful.

Unfortunately, she arrived at the cottage scratched and bleeding, as there was nothing but she had to walk from the runabout's landing pad through a small meadow full of tall sharp thorns. She broke free of the hateful vegetation and entered the dense forest, trodding a narrow, but thankfully clear, dirt trail. When the trail opened and she cast her eyes upward, she almost cried out. The house, at least so far from the outside, was everything she had described to Miles:

_A gorgeous, 200 year old cottage, filled with antiques, sitting in the middle of a deep dark forest, three fireplaces, two balconies, twenty kilometers to the nearest neighbor, thirty to the nearest town..._

It was surrounded by a tiny but beautifully kept wildflower garden, and beyond the garden, the majestic Holana River sparkled and rumbled hypnotically. She again recalled her words to Miles:

There's a view. Of the Holana River. You can see it from every room in the house. At night when the stars are out and you can only hear rushing water, it may be one of the most romantic spots in all of Bajor…

She dropped her bag, sighed and sneezed, and stood there in the fading sun, bleeding. There weren't many places as gorgeous and as peaceful as this. It had been a very long time since she had seen this place, one of the few spots that seemed to come back to its beauty with a vengeance, as if thumbing its nose at the horrors the Cardassians wrought upon the planet. She picked up her bag and stepped onto the stone path of the garden, up to the huge oak door, and into the cottage.

It was cool and dim inside, the late day sunlight slanting in through the windows. It smelled pleasantly of burned wood, melted candle wax, and furniture polish, overlaid with the earthy scent of patchouli Jordan favored so much. Aside from the muted rush of the river outside, it was quiet, wonderfully quiet.

She started up the staircase, one hand trailing along the cool smooth wood of the polished bannister, turned at the top of the stairs, and walked down the hall to the master bedroom. As she walked, she could see the river through the huge bare windows. No need for curtains in this place.

She went past a door and glanced in. Bathroom. Oh, no. Big white porcelain clawfoot bathtub with matching sink, surrounded by a terra cotta tile floor, an immense bay window with its river view, and two thick navy bathsheets laid out on the padded seat below the window. _Bathing Experience_. Her tired, scratched body began to beg. She went on into the bedroom, tossed the bag onto the sleigh bed and rummaged through it for the container of salve Julian had given her for the rash on the backs of her thighs…

…that Miles had so tenderly massaged several nights ago.

She gasped at the erotic strength of this thought, dropped the salve onto the mattress and sank to her knees. The baby lurched within her, an explicit reminder of how very close she and Miles had come in the runabout and of the emotion that was trying to sneak up on her: guilt. She stayed on her knees only long enough to touch her earring and take several deep, open mouthed breaths. Then she pushed herself to her feet. She had spent too long as a freedom fighter living with guilt for just having survived the latest Cardassian raid. She'd be damned if she'd let a massage and an innocent moment of discussion poison not only this good thing she was doing for Miles and Keiko, but for the friendships themselves. Besides, she grinned in spite of herself, Miles and I can't do anything that would jeopardize our great arguments! Satisfied that she had beaten back the guilt monster, she went into the bathroom and began to draw water for a bubble bath.

After luxuriating for an hour in the tub, she sat naked on the bed, applying the salve to the backs of her thighs and to the myriad cuts and abrasions she had suffered in the meadow. Instantly, all the stinging and itching stopped. She lumbered off the bed and donned a brightly colored shift that hung down to her ankles. She clicked on the little electric lamp in the sconce on the wall and checked the mirror. _Yes_, she confirmed, _I look like a whale_. _But I'm a _comfortable_ whale_! She cackled to herself and her stomach rumbled. Leaning on the wall, she struggled into a pair of slippers – thank the Prophets for slip-ons – and waddled back downstairs to find something to eat.

At the base of the steps, she shivered and realized it was getting cold in the cottage. She went to the fireplace and carefully knelt down in front of it. Jordan had left everything she needed to construct the perfect fire and soon she had a roaring blaze going. The room began at once to warm up. In an awkward motion she would have killed anyone to see, she stood, swayed light headed for a second, and then gained her equilibrium.

She padded to the kitchen and opened a cupboard, smiling at its contents. Once again, Jordan had provided for her. She would have to do something in a big way to thank her. She shuffled around the kitchen, content in her domesticity, finding comfort in preparing a simple meal by hand, rather than depending upon a replicator or a restaurant for something fancier.

Back in front of the crackling fire in the living room awhile later with a big plate of pasta and vegetables on her belly and a thick slice of Jordan's homemade whole wheat bread on a plate by her side, she ate in complete bliss.

_Behind her, the coolness of the salve on her thighs contrasted sharply with the warm hand applying it, raising goosebumps over her entire body. He laughed when he noticed and she reached back to slap at him. His hand caught hers and held tightly. She craned her neck around to meet his laughing eyes. He brought the hand that was not in hers over the naked expanse of her stomach and drew her whole body around to face him…_

The empty plate thudded to the throw rug on the floor, the fork skidding off and clattering on the hardwood beyond the rug. She awoke with a start, sweating and _wet_ in places she should _not_ be. And then she began to cry.

When she had pretty much wept herself dry, she managed to drag herself upstairs to the bed. She crawled onto it without so much as pulling back the quilt and fell into a deep, dreamless, sleep.

**oOo oOo oOo**

She awoke to bright sunlight and what she thought at first were birds, but then realized she was hearing one person, singing. The voice was a lilting feminine one that seemed to be on the same pitch as the river and was punctuated by a muffled stomping sound. She lay there awhile, yawning and rubbing sleep from her eyes, fascinated by the sound. Then it stopped and she heard a gentle knocking at the kitchen door just below the bedroom. She struggled off the bed and went to the window. She raised it and called out.

"Good morning! I didn't know anyone lived around here."

Kira was looking at a young Bajoran woman, dressed in a plain white blouse and calf length dark blue skirt. Her hair was long and brown, shining mahogany in the sun, tied back with a white band, though bits of it escaped the band and hung in curly que fashion around her face. She was also wearing a vicious looking metal brace on her left leg, and it was this, Kira realized, that had made the muffled stomping sound she had heard. The woman looked up at Kira and smiled hugely.

"Good morning back to you! I'm Ty Maura, a friend of Kalli Jordan's. She told me you were due and last night I could smell the wood smoke, so I figured you had arrived. I've come to see if you need anything."

Kira didn't fully realize until that moment that it had been a bad idea to come here alone. She was suddenly very glad to see Ty Maura. "Just a second. I'll be right down." She put on her robe and hurried as much as she could downstairs to the kitchen door.

Ty started when Kira opened the door, her eyes having fallen immediately to her swollen belly. She finally looked up into Kira's face and blushed crimson. "I'm sorry! Jordan didn't say anything about…" She looked away, but then quickly looked back, allowing only an odd flicker in her green eyes to show that Kira's condition had somehow upset her.

Kira pretended she had not seen this flicker and opened the door wider, inviting the woman inside. "I'm Kira Nerys, plus one," she patted her belly, "and Jordan didn't tell you because _I_ didn't tell Jordan." She grinned at Maura. "Would you join me for a cup of tea? Maura nodded and Kira bustled around the kitchen, setting out tea things and finding some cookies in a big ceramic jar on the counter by the refrigerator. Kira turned in time to see Maura release the lock at the knee on her brace and sit at the table. It reminded Kira of a question she wanted to ask.

"So how did you get here, Ty?"

"Please call me Maura. And I walked."

"C-call me Nerys," Kira stammered, caught off guard by Maura's words. "And you _walked_? From _where_?"

"I live in a house about twenty kilometers from here, and I walk all the time, so don't be troubled that my brace holds me back. I got the house last year from the old couple who lived there before and during the Occupation. The Cardassians killed their only son and when the Occupation ended, they had no desire to stay. It was empty for two years until I came along."

Kira had absolutely no response for this candid bit of information and was thankful when the kettle began whistling on the stove, giving her something to do. She refused Maura's offer to help and set to pouring the boiling water over the tea bags and arranging cookies on a plate. When the tea was steeped, Kira brought the mugs and cookies to the table and sat down across from Maura.

Maura smiled weakly, rolled her eyes and took a cookie. "I'm sorry for what I just said. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I've always had a problem with my mouth. I really must learn to keep it shut." She bit into the cookie to emphasize her point.

Actually, you sound a lot like me," Kira replied, taking and biting a cookie as well. They laughed together, spraying cookie crumbs everywhere and effectively evaporating the tension that had tried to come between them.

It was just a good thing the cookies were oatmeal and the tea caffiene free, because Kira and Maura spent the rest of the morning at the kitchen table, drinking tea, eating cookies, and talking. Maura started to say something (of course!) about the number of cookies Kira was consuming, but changed her mind at the last second and did what she had done earlier to keep from speaking: bit into another cookie.

Kira learned all about the Cardassian booby trap that had crippled an eleven year old girl and killed her parents, and Maura learned all about the baby and about DS9, and about Miles and Keiko, and mostly about Miles.

"After my dream last night on the couch, I'm not sure what to do. What do you think?"

"Um, I think we should take a walk by the river! Tell you what, I'll clean up the kitchen, while you go change into something comfortable to walk in. I'll even help with your shoes. Deal?"

"Deal." As Kira rose with a sneeze from the table, she remembered the flicker she had seen earlier in Maura's eyes and wondered what it might be that caused her new friend to abruptly change the subject.

Just as Kira was about to gripe that she could go no further, Maura pointed directly ahead to a grassy area beneath a huge tree overhanging the river.

"That's where we're going. Can you hang on for two more minutes?"

"I certainly can! Matter of fact, I'll race you!" Kira set off at a trot, arms wrapped around her stomach for support. She heard Maura's uneven gait just behind her. They reached the tree at almost the exact same time, although Kira was much shorter of breath than was Maura. Kira collapsed slowly onto the grass. Maura fell beside her, laughing. They lay there for awhile, listening to the rushing water. Maura began to sing, once again in perfect pitch with the river. It amazed Kira that she could do that.

"Nerys." Maura stopped singing suddenly and spoke into the sound of the rushing water, but Kira could hear her perfectly.

"Yes?"

"When I told you how the old couple lost their son to the Cardassians, I left something out."

Maura sat up and looked out over the river for a long moment. "I was married to him." Tears glided silently down her face.

"Oh, Maura, I'm so sorry." Kira reached over and laid her hand on the woman's arm.

"It's okay." She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. "I don't know whether this is good or bad, but I used to never be able to cry. But after…after Marc died, well, the tears come now just as easily as words do." She sighed deeply, eyes glistening.

"Marc was so handsome and so brave. He risked his life every time he went out and more than once almost died just trying to see his parents. He kept me so deep inside our cell that we barely saw each other. He always told me the Cardassians had done enough to me, that he would not let the bastards near me ever again. So I tended the home fires." She paused and smiled wistfully. "But we saw each other enough.

"Then one day when he and his team did not return to the hideout, we knew. I didn't want to live anymore, but by then I had more than myself to think about." She stretched her arm out and lightly placed her hand on Kira's belly. She kept it there, and Kira covered it with her own hand.

"But it was so hard on me, carrying the baby, managing the brace, and trying to stay alive. In the end, the baby lost. I couldn't maintain my own health, let alone my baby's. I went into labor on a cold night near the end of the Occupation. I was in labor for twenty two hours and when Eric was finally born, it was too late to save him, even if we had had the medical equipment to do so.

"The Occupation ended three months later, and I spent most of those months in a daze. My friends in the resistance nursed me and kept me safe, thank the Prophets, or I would have just wandered into the winter night and let either the elements or the enemy take me.

"When we realized for certain that the Cardassians were gone, there was much celebration. But the destruction was so complete and so devastating that it seemed as though we had lost our beautiful planet for good."

Kira sighed, looking up into the tree limbs. She remembered well the horror tinged celebrations she and Shakaar participated in at the end of it all. Maura continued, removing her hand from beneath Kira's and leaning back on her arms.

"I took stock of my situation then; I came back to myself. The resistance cell was breaking up, with everyone going off to find what might or might not be left of their homes and families. Since my own family was gone, I decided to try to find Marc's parents. I returned to the house only to find it empty. But at least it was still standing. I went back to the capital and hunted for the better part of a year with no luck. In the end it was only by chance that I found them, anyway. I saw them in the open air market in the square one afternoon. Can you believe that?

"I told them about their grandson and told them stories of Marc's courage and strength. I asked them why the house was empty, and they said they could not bear to live there without Marc. They said they were going to sell it, and when I started making noises like I wanted to buy it, they simply gave it to me right then and there. The rest, as they say, is history."

Maura reached over, slapped Kira's belly playfully, and switched tracks again. "So you want to know what you should do because you had one little wet dream that included the father of this child?"

Kira hoisted herself up onto her elbows, her jaw dropping open with a squeak of surprise. "You know, Maura, you've really got to give me more warning when you're about to shift moods like that."

"Nerys," Maura leaned in for emphasis, deepening her voice and wiggling her eyebrows at her, "Think. The man was giving you _massages_, for pity's sake! You're a healthy, pregnant Bajoran woman. Who wouldn't have erotic dreams given that combination?"

With astonishing clarity, Kira saw the logic in that, even though she knew she was being teased. "But what about the, er, almost kiss?"

"What about it? You didn't kiss him, did you?"

"No."

"You told him to get out, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Well, there ya go! Absolutely no harm done, except maybe to your subconscious." Maura narrowed her eyes in devilment. "I gotta admit, though, you sure handled it way better than I would have in your place." Before Kira could respond, Maura switched moods again. "We will always be freedom fighters, Nerys, in whatever form that takes. You have saved a baby, you are creating a child who will live in place of one little boy who didn't. If I could have had the chance Keiko did to save her child, I would have jumped on it.

"You haven't done anything wrong with Miles, and you won't. From what you've told me, you care too much about your relationship with the O'Brien's to ruin it with a brief hormonal moment. Go back and let him massage the hell outta you, let yourself dream, and have their baby free of the guilt that wants to consume you.

"You don't have a choice on this one. You want to know why?" She went right on without pausing. "Because I'm not giving you one! She stopped for a moment and then went on in a softer tone, "Don't do it just for the O'Brien's, Nerys, do it for me, for Marc, and for my sweet baby boy."

Kira was so intent on Maura's words that she could no longer hear the river. She absently wondered which Prophet had assigned this Angel of the Orb to her. She had no idea, but whichever one it was, she was mighty thankful they had.

In this short space of time, she had become a whole different person than the one she was when she jerked awake in the wee hours of the morning on the couch. Checking around inside for any twinge of guilt, she found none. Maura was right. She and Miles had not done anything wrong; in fact, they had done everything right. She wasn't altogether sure she could go right back to letting Miles touch her anytime soon, but even that thought didn't conjure up bad feelings anymore. She was really, really okay. She could do it.

Switching tracks again, and yanking Kira out of her reverie, Maura hefted herself to her feet in a well practiced move and suggested they go and eat lunch.

Which sounded like a great idea.

End


End file.
